The air was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle and your instincts scream at you to stay sharp. The mission had already gone sideways, and now all of you were hunkered down behind a stack of rusted shipping crates, waiting for the right moment to move.

But then—Soap shoved you.

Not hard, not enough to make a sound, but just enough to send you stumbling forward into the open. Before you could react, cold steel was pressed against your throat, the barrel of an enemy’s gun pinning you in place. Your breath hitched. No sudden movements. No second chances.

Soap barely spared you a glance, a slow smirk curling on his lips as he turned to the others.

“They’re a liability,” he said, voice as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “We leave ‘em, or we all go down.”

Price’s eyes flickered to Ghost. A silent exchange. A decision made.

“Moving out,” Price ordered, his voice like a final nail in a coffin.

And just like that, they turned their backs.

Leaving you behind.